


Electra

by Elecktracomplex



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:12:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5035120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elecktracomplex/pseuds/Elecktracomplex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Good girls take their punishment don't they, Lizzie?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Electra

* * *

 

She knocks on the door and she doesn't really know why she bothers. He’s seen her coming from the window, watched her climb out of the car. Her legs tremble as she waits to hear his footsteps from the other side of the door. He comes, she can hear him now.

Her stomach is lurching in horrified anticipation. She wants this, she needs this and she hates herself for it.

He opens the door and gazes at her, his body blocking the doorway. Will he let her in? Was last time too much? Does he hate himself too?

“Come in,” he says, moving to the side and she stumbles in, like a sailor who hears the siren’s call. She can't help it. She’s shipwrecking herself just like the sailors in the legend.

She creeps in, quietly ashamed but needing, needing so much. Her body craves what he can give her. She leads the way to the bedroom. She knows the way by now. She stops in front of the bed and removes her boots and socks, neatly lining them up against the wall. She knows how he likes her to be tidy.

He’s followed her in, standing in the doorway, watching her remove her shirt, folding it away and placing it on his dresser. She removes her pants too, they go along side her shirt, folded up next to a bottle of aftershave and an old, hardcover book on the dresser.

She waits. He likes to remove her bra himself. She feels him behind her now, his warm fingers stroking her back. He sweeps her hair aside and unclips her white, lacy bra, casting the wispy piece of fabric aside and cupping a breast with one hand.

She's throbbing, she’s aching. It makes her whine. He doesn't like it when she whines. He only likes her to make noise when he’s punishing her. But she can’t stop, when he touches her, it feels like fire and electricity and she wants him to squeeze her flesh, hot and hard, make her scream.

“Get on the bed, Lizzie,”he commands, his voice stirring wicked things low in her belly.

She crawls across his bed, lying flat, her arms stretched out above her head, her legs splayed. The blanket is rough against her cold, pebbled skin. She’s nervous, she always is. She's done this a hundred times but it always feel like the first time.

She hears him remove his belt and she closes her eyes, quivering in anticipation. Her cotton panties remain on, he likes it that way. He says he needs it that way. She’ll give him whatever he needs if he’ll just keep on with this. She's so afraid he’ll stop one day, tell her he can't see her again, tell her she is bad and broken for wanting this. But if she's broken, he’s broken too. He wants it as much as she.

He swings, grunting with the effort.

The thwack of the belt reaches her ears a moment before the pain bites into her flesh. It takes her breath away. She moans, whimpers. He likes to hear her cry.

Thud. Again, his leather belt, swinging through the air, so hard. He swings faster, his guttural grunts punctuating the noisy slap of the belt.

She grinds herself into the bed, desperate for friction as her skin heats up, the pain jolts through her, radiating to her centre. It's so welcome, such an exquisite release. She only feels she’s really breathing when he punishes her like this. The rest of the time is just her holding her breath, trying to survive until the next time.

She struggles to remain still. There's a ringing in her ears. She can barely hear herself scream. She’s begging him now. Begging him through her wet sobs to tell her she’s a good girl. She hasn't been bad. She doesn't want him to stop but she needs to hear that she’s been good.

“Good girls take their punishment, don't they, Lizzie?” He croons.

She nods, “yes, yes, I can be a good girl, please let me be your good girl, daddy.”

Daddy, she calls him.

He only told her because she’d been crawling all over him, attempting to seduce him. He’d had so much scotch under his belt, he couldn’t bear it. He’d admitted it after she’d hopped onto his lap, her tongue insistently exploring his mouth. He’d been too far gone to push her away, to make up some excuse that wouldn't hurt her pride too badly.

She hadn’t stopped. He'd told her of his paternal relationship to her, fearfully believing it would break any trust she had left in him. But she hadn't cared, she'd carried on kissing him, murmuring endearments, licking and sucking at his throat, determined that she had to have him inside her.

She didn’t care.

He had been so angry afterward. At himself. At her. He’d cried, his head in his hands and she'd crawled across the floor to him on her belly, begging him not to be sad. He had her, didn't he?

“Please don't be sad. Please don't leave me,” she'd cried, throwing herself across his lap as if she could somehow hold him down with her body, prevent him from ever leaving.

He’d stroked the flesh of her thighs, his tears still falling. His hands had become firmer, rubbing her bottom, warming her. He’d hit her, a shocking sound of flesh against flesh. She’d yelped. She could have bitten her tongue then. She didn't want to startle him, didn't want him to stop.

He’d picked her up, lifting her in his arms and tossing her onto the bed, his strength stunning her. He'd held her down at first, his belt in his hand. But she’d spread her legs, letting him, crying and begging for more. He didn't need to hold her down, she had opened herself to him.

She curls up now, into a ball on the bed. He’s done, he’s satisfied. He can breathe again too. He crawls onto the bed and curls himself around her, stroking her hair with one hand like a father would, the other hand nestled between her legs.


End file.
